


Punch Line

by SibilantWhisper



Series: Not All Jokes Are Funny [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Codependency, F/M, Mental Instability, Mood Disorder, Murder, Obsession, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge, Sociopath, Unhealthy Relationships, Villains, post-Suicide Squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 11:45:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7756684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SibilantWhisper/pseuds/SibilantWhisper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wakes up the morning after her prison break, happy to be back home where she belongs and expecting life to go right back to the way it was. Only the Joker isn't there for her first day back, and the realization that Belle Reve has left it's own brand of scars isn't Harley's idea of a good joke. Leave it to her Puddin to make the world funny again...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punch Line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radiantmania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiantmania/gifts).



> There was a debt that was never settled for me when I walked out of the movie, so this is my response. 
> 
> Considered a gift to radiantmania, because we've been obsessing and brainstorming over these particular incarnations for so long that there's no way 80% of this wasn't inspired by our on going discussions.

_The bullets zipped past her, scant inches from grazing her flesh during the firefight, but Harley smiled anyway, eyes locked on him. He was gesturing for her as she stripped off the jacket, oh how easy it was to shed when she had the real deal right in front of her. Waller was shouting threats as Deadshot called her name, but she paid them no heed. It was like the past months had been nothing, time meaningless; eternity was an easy trade off if it meant she could be with him again. Her lips stretched into a grin at his audaciousness, her puddin' knew how to arrive in **style**. She took a small running start and leapt, arms outstretched as she aimed to grasp the dangling rope. Her blood raced from the thrill of it all and she laughed, her glee short lived as she missed and scrambled frantically to get a decent grip on the rope. It slipped through her hands like water, why couldn't she-?! She slid down rapidly, glancing up in desperation for help, only to get an eyeful of the plane as it burst into flames. Harley screamed in terror and loss, no longer anchored and plummeting_ \-- 

 

She woke with a short gasp, the sounds of crashing planes slowly fading from her sluggish mind as reality crept in. She took a deep inhale, staring up at her reflection in the familiar, mirrored ceiling of a bedroom suite. ... _Right_ , the casino. It'd been her idea to come here ( _"Lady's choice"_ he'd purred). Jokers Wild was one of their usual spots, especially when they craved a little down time. Just another source of income, another hideaway, another...home. One she hadn't seen in ages (had it been months... _years?_ ). She couldn't even remember at this point just how long she'd sat in Belle Reve, wasting away from boredom; the days had bled together. Hell, she wasn't sure J had been able to keep track either, but she got the feeling Johnny knew. She was confident her puddin' had kept them all on their toes during her absence. The state of his office was still a delightful shock to her. It jarred the shattered, professional bits of her old self awake and urged her to pour over every detail and obsess over how badly she'd been missed. He was the worst at saying things like that, her Puddin...

A grin abruptly broke out across her face and she rolled over, burying her face into the silk pillowcase to squeal, kicking her legs giddily. _Home_. It wasn't some drawn out hallucination. He had not only survived the crash, but had stormed the castle and freed her from that demon Waller's clutches. It was a feat straight out of one of her novels-no, it _surpassed_ them.  
  
_Eat your heart out, Molly O'Keefe_  
  
Harley twisted about, flopping onto her back and giggling as the previous night's events caught up to her. She'd been on cloud nine since the minute he'd hugged her in that cell. Such a refreshing thing it was to walk...well, _be carried_ to freedom -- but who was she to turn down her puddin' being so generous? She hadn't let go of him the entire flight back, but she'd eagerly darted inside the casino as soon as they arrived. He'd humored her skipping and twirling about the lobby, but it hadn't taken long for her to pick up on how intensely he was staring at her. As if she could disappear at any moment. Like he'd slit the throats of anyone who so much as joked about her absence. She was biting into his flesh and shuddering at the growls against her ear in no time at all. It was a blur how they'd even made it upstairs. Trembling, sweaty, gasping, she'd come undone under his ministrations; the familiar assault of his touch and the soothing surroundings she'd thought gone forever had overworked her senses. The silk sheets against her back, the cool caress of Joker's rings as his hands slid up and gripped her waist. The delicious rub of his hips against her thighs.

She stretched lazily, a smile plastered on her face with all the smugness of a pampered cat as she reveled in all the lovely aches and stings. Sliding her legs free from the sheets, she caught her own gaze in the ceiling mirror and took inventory. The red smudges of his lipstick all over her inner thighs, blending with the dark purple impressions of his teeth -- decadent art on her pale, canvas like skin. Her own makeup was mostly worn away, smeared here and there around her lips and chin. A myriad of bruises had blossomed overnight, wherever his hands had gripped hard enough. Her hands traveled over the discolorations, memorizing and recalling each touch as her breath became shorter. Oh, she _could_ relive it by herself, but why lift a finger when she had a willing partner?

Harley frowned at the thought, finally sitting up and glancing around the bedroom. In complete disarray from their fun, still, but her clown prince of crime was nowhere to be seen. No nonsensical humming from the bathroom or theatrical chatter as he handled business over the phone...nothing. He wasn't a heavy sleeper, and he was too much of a busy body to sleep for long, but she expected him to at least be in arms reach the first morning after her release. He had been the one to claim they were 'laying low'; the club he'd neglected during her incarceration was long overdue for some maintenance. The pleasure at that admission from him paled now in light of his absence.

Rolling her eyes, she scooted forward and bounced from the bed, skipping over to their walk-in closet and searching for something decent. A pair of underwear and one of Joker's dress shirts were good enough--it's not like she expected to have them on for very long. She gave her hair a quick ruffle in the mirror on her way to the door, yanking it open and stepping outside to inhale deeply.

" _JOHNNY!_ " The yell echoed in the corridor as she waited at the top of the stairs. There was a few seconds before a goon showed his face, peering up at her from the bottom step in confusion as she rested her hands on her hips. "Did I ask for ya? Where is he?"

"No, Miss- _Boss_. Sorry, It's just that Johnny ain't here. He's out with Mister J." The thug shrugged as if that was a good enough answer, and Harley let the displeasure show on her face, making it go blank as she stared. He straightened up immediately, eyes wide with worry. It was a trick she'd picked up from Joker pretty quickly; the guys were used to the mercurial shifts from rage to amusement, so picking up on an irritated stretch of the neck or a dry laugh was mainly what they looked out for as cues. Sometimes they got too comfortable with it, but go quiet and expressionless on them? They panicked and tripped over themselves to figure out how to please you. "A-h-he said they had an errand to run, something to pick up before tonight-- _that's all_." He looked nervous; Harley wanted to pick at him until he made a mistake but she huffed instead, bare feet smacking the polished floors as she made her way past him and downstairs.

"Oh sure, go on an errand without me and leave me by myself. _Fine_ , I'll just eat breakfast with two guys who _actually_ love me." She grumbled petulantly. There was a vintage elevator next to the stairwell, gilded, grand and mainly for show but Harley chose it instead since she wasn't a fan of the stairs. Despite her recent excitement she'd been without action for quite some time and definitely needed to work on her cardio (maybe she'd add a few old gymnastic routines into to her work out, she wanted to be in top form when she returned to the club scene). She rode down to the lobby, walking briskly in a purposeful bee line through the empty gambling room to the kitchens at the back of it. The swinging doors parted easily, and a few heads rose as she entered. Some of the lower ranked goons were playing cards in the corner. They sat up at her entrance, but relaxed when she made her way to the elderly chef wiping down his tools. He didn't look any worse for wear since the last time she'd seen him, but Harley was surprised he was still around, they went through chefs pretty quickly in Gotham. Joker had a habit of dining at a fine restaurant, demanding that the head chef cook for them on special occasions, and in exchange he'd try not to make shooting up their joint a habit. Her puddin' wasn't exactly the best at keeping such promises. They were so pesky to remember. It was good to see the guy hadn't fucked up the arrangement just yet--he made an excellent lobster bisque.

"Good afternoon, Miss Quinn." The older man greeted, drying his hands off on his apron. "How might--"

"I want my usual breakfast." She ordered with a yawn, leaning against the stainless steel counter. Her chin rested in her hands, blue eyes trailing all over the kitchen with childish wonder as she re-cataloged every inch of the place.

"Oh...of course, Miss Quinn. It's lovely to have you back again, by the way, it's been a while. Forgive me but...perhaps you could jog my memory as to what your usual was...?" There was a heavy pause as Harley rolled her eyes to the ceiling, before a devious grin spread across her lips. The cook blanched.

" _You figure it out_ ," Harley sang teasingly, turning around and catching sight of the large freezer door on the other end of the kitchen. Well, it was _meant_ to look like a freezer, but she knew what it really housed. "On second thought, never mind. I want waffles. Oh, and bacon!" The chef tried not to be too obvious about his relieved sigh, and nodded promptly as he got to work.

"Right away, Miss Quinn."

"Oh and I want a couple slabs of beef. Y'know, bloodiest we got--I'm gonna eat with the babies." The chef frowned from where he was adjusting the waffle iron, not glancing up as he commented.

"I'm sorry Miss, but they're gone." He didn't notice Harley going stock still.

"...What?"

"I said they're gone, have been since-" The waffle iron slammed down on top of the hand he'd been using to test the heat with. The cook cried out in alarm as the increasing heat started to sear his skin, the smell of burning flesh rapidly filling the room. The henchmen nearby jumped up at the sudden commotion, and he glanced up into a livid pair of blue as Harley pushed her weight down to pin him in place.

"What d'ya mean, _GONE?!_ " She hissed, accent heavy and an wild look in her eyes. The chef let out a desperate whine, unable to focus past the agony to even guess at what she wanted to hear. To his luck, a goon spoke up.

"Hey... uh, Boss? He didn't mean it like that, Bud & Lou are good, Mister J just took em' out with him for business." Harley's attention snapped to him immediately, her hands slipping from the iron just as quick as she'd slammed it down. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, brow furrowed as if she didn't believe him.

"...Ya sure about that?" The goon nodded, echoed by a few of the other guys who were eyeing her cautiously.

"Yeah, I swear. Said he was takin' the boys out but he'd be back later 'cause we're celebratin' you comin back." Harley's expression softened immediately, her mouth forming a wordless 'Aww' at this news. She'd forgotten, (having had her own personal celebration already) that puddin' would want to do something big to celebrate her return. It was part of the appeal for the henchmen as well, when working for Joker. He liked to do things _big_ , especially parties. If J was in a good mood, the wealth was spread generously and the boys got to have fun. That his 'Queen's return was worth all this hassle threatened to turn her into goo on the spot.

"Well, that's okay then! If Puddin' needs them--let the boys get their exercise. Thanks, Rocco," She turned to the cook now crumpled on the floor. " _Jeeze_ , give me a heart attack, why don't cha. I thought you meant something else!" She laughed. The man clutched his damaged hand to his chest, whimpering quietly. Harley blinked, realizing the guy wasn't in any shape to cook now, and sighed as she turned to the wary foursome behind her. "You guys wanna pick me up something from Steak and Shake?"

 

**"Do you know who I am? I'm future hall-of-famer, Vlade Divac!"**

**"No you're not."**

**"I'm Venus Williams."**

**"No you're not." Bugs insisted, clearly fed up with Daffy.**

Harley giggled around a forkful of pancakes, reaching for the large strawberry milkshake on the coffee table in front of her. The colorful flashes from one of her favorite cartoons filled the big flat screen they kept in the lounge. Harley's fuzzy pink bedroom slippers swung to and fro as she happily enjoyed two of her favorite activities: midday breakfast and cartoon binge watching.  Empty cartons from her large food order were scattered on the table and couch, not that she worried about cleaning it up. The goons waited on her hand and foot; she could laze about _all_ she wanted. If J wasn't going to be here to indulge her, she was going to take full advantage of it. She'd blasted some of her favorite tunes as loud as she liked and put the time waiting for her food to good use, cart wheeling, flipping and practicing some of her older moves (the memory was fuzzy, but she was great at improvising). Her puddin' wasn't one for loud music outside of the club scene, and he had too short of an attention span for TV, unless of course he was on it. So now was the perfect time to play catch up on one of her favorite shows. They were up to six seasons now-- _six!_  She'd missed so much! A long sip of her milkshake had her humming in delight, eyes riveted by the screen up until Daffy Duck ran face first into a basketball goal. Fighting back a laugh, Harley clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from spitting out her drink. It was impossible to fight, however. The impulse caused her to snort at the same time, and abruptly the icy slush was caught in the back of her throat, traveling up and dribbling from her nose. The horrid sensation made her jolt not only from surprise, but also the images that came along with it.

 _"Mmm, looks tasty, doesn't it? What're we havin' tonight, Harley? Strawberry? **De** licious." Her hands curled into tight fists as the plunger was pushed on the syringe, pumping the pale pink concoction through the tube traveling down her throat. Shedidn'twantit,shedidn'twantit--Such a queer sensation it was, mouth dry and her jaw sore from the gag she was biting hard on. A tube jammed down to her gut, making her feel sick. She glared through tears, straining to look at the guard whose name she still hadn't caught yet, but his face and voice she was starting to recognize easily through this haze of discomfort. "Has someone had enough? No?" His grin dropped away and he hissed at her. "My job, is to keep you alive until you **die** , you understand me? " He grinned again, voice dropping into an _ _amused whisper. "And you've got a while 'til then, sweetheart. S'gonna be you and me for a long while." He gave a short tug on the tubing in her nose, just hard enough to cause panic as she felt the bile rise--_

The plate full of pancakes was knocked from her lap, upended by the large milkshake as Harley let it slip from her fingers. The dish clattered against the coffee table and shattered on impact, making a racket as Harley leaned over the side of the couch and felt her stomach lurch. The contents of her stomach came spewing from her lips, staining the carpet with pale pink chunks of breakfast. Harley stared, chest heaving with deep breaths as her stomach clenched and gurgled, threatening to add to the mess she'd already made. Her eyes stung. White, hot anger swept through her, narrowing her vision into a tunnel. Her fingers were digging into the fabric of the sofa, and her lungs were suddenly burning. There was movement to her right as the door to the lounge was thrown open; only when she tried to form the words 'Get out' did she realize she was already screaming at the top of her lungs. Her mouth snapped shut.

"Miss Quinn, you alright?!" The first henchman asked, already looking around at the mess in the room with pistol in hand. His gaze lowered to the puke on the floor and he barely masked a grimace of disgust. A second man remained by the door, eyeing Harley more closely, so he noticed immediately when her mouth trembled before twisting into an ugly sneer. She lunged for the lamp on a nearby table, hurling it at the offending goon.

" _Shit!_ " The second one backpedaled, holding up his hands disarmingly as the first guy fell, face bloodied and out cold. He stared at the hysterical blonde, watching as her eyes stared into empty space, the energy visibly draining out of her just that fast. Her arms came down to her sides as she slumped on the couch, looking so painfully despondent that it made him want to cry. Not because he was moved, oh no, he knew better than to let that get to him. If he tried to be consoling and she took it the wrong way he'd end up just like his buddy over there. She _did_ look a little less frantic now, and while that didn't do much for him, he had to figure out something. If Mister J came back to a catatonic Harley Quinn-- "Uh, hey Boss." Wide, blue eyes turned to him slowly, watery and just a little red. "Don't ...worry about Clyde, alright? He's an idiot. How about I get someone to clean up the mess he made while you relax or somethin'?" No response, not even a blink.  _Fuck_. "Y'know we finished that spa you wanted? Back when you were- I mean, it's on the third floor. Big shower, sauna and all that. Sounds nice, right?" She stared wordlessly, long enough for him to consider running out the door and just accepting his fate (being 6" 4 and muscular had nothing on Harley's brand of unstable if she came at him, and he was _not_ about to shoot at the Boss' girlfriend). Harley mumbled something he couldn't quite catch, but her slow nod and rise from the couch was reassuring. She shuffled past him without another word, and he let out a long sigh once the door closed behind her.

" _Damn_ , I thought things were gonna calm down around here, not get weirder."

 

"Flashes, flashes and more flashes,"... almost like fireworks if you thought about it-- _bang!boom!crack!-_ -careful, that might cause the babies anxiety. "Suggested dosage 200mg of fluvoxamine...no, paroxetine?" Yeah, if you wanted to go into shock. But shock was okay. "I can take it," She could take it, J was _so_ good at it, knew how to make it like a shiatsu for your brain. Not like _nasty jolting metal bars_ \-- _no_ "It's fine, who cares, I don't care." Lies. Flowing from her like water, like a...like the river in Eygpt. "Denial...?" _Tsk, tsk,_ that wasn't good. "Patient shows signs of cognitive repression, a symptom of psychological trauma or dynamic dissociative dysfunctionality,"

...wait.

Was that last one even a real thing? ...Had she made that up? Harley giggled, crouched low in the steady stream of the shower as she doodled words and pictures into the fogged glass. She wasn't sure just how long she'd been in here; it'd taken her a while to find the room and oddly enough, she hadn't run into anybody. She wondered why that was -- were they avoiding her? Well that was just _rude_. It was almost enough to make her angry...but she just didn't have the energy. Maybe all she needed was a good nap, she hadn't slept much this morning, to be honest--

"You're _avoiding_ it again," she sang to herself, smearing her hastily scrawled diagnosis into nothing. She wanted to get angry, she really did, but she didn't. It wasn't fair! She was back home, where she belonged and with _whom_ she belonged. Everything was good again and she didn't care about anything that had happened.  J felt there was no point in dwelling on the old, the past was useless, and she agreed. She didn't think about boring little Harleen or exes and old acquaintinces, so why couldn't she forget about some dumb prison stint? She buried her face in her knees, feeling the pruny skin of her fingertips gripping hard into her shins but _not enough_. Not enough to bruise, like she so desperately craved right now. _Where was he, Where was he_ \-- She'd been in here, stalling for time and trying to cheat her way through patience. It wasn't working anymore; her mind kept shifting, fading, racing, slowing down and then bringing everything into razor sharp focus again. It was probably time to get out and find something to wear, Harley didn't want to be moping about when he got home-- not when they were supposed to be celebrating.

 _Then why isn't he here, if you're supposed to be worth celebrating?_ Her mind hissed cruelly, a reflection sneering from within the mirror. She pushed the edges of her hands to her eyes, biting her lip hard enough to break the skin. Blood washed over her tongue and she was laughing again, head thrown back and her mouth wide open. Oh the _absurd_ amount of reminders she was getting hit with today. Soaking wet, the taste of copper in her mouth...

She'd bitten the first guard she saw in Belle Reve.

Harley had been a soggy, quiet mess once Batman had dropped her off at the GCPD, and it hadn't taken her long to realize she wasn't going straight to Arkham. They'd dosed her up for the entire trip, and she hadn't come to until her processing for Belle Reve. The accents around her were all wrong, and they didn't even know who she was; her Puddin' would've been insulted. She must've looked pitiful when they asked her to strip, because one of the female guards had loosened her grip _just a bit_ \--she'd tackled her to the floor, teeth bared. When they pulled her off she'd had half an earlobe in her mouth and a sudden buzz of energy the next two guards couldn't handle. They'd resorted to spraying her down with a hose to control her erratic behavior when she was too violent, since tasers never kept her docile for long. Even then she'd slip and contort out of their grips and be a general nuisance. They'd given her a muzzle for the first few weeks. When she'd coaxed a guard into removing it with the wordless implied promise of using her mouth for something good, they'd given her a straitjacket instead and moved her to a cage. They'd taken _that_  back when they discovered it was what she'd used to strangle another guard, and then her bed frame finally when she'd lured another foolish guard close to her bed, only to slam his face into it. They thought she was harmless after that, until she'd stubbornly remained swinging in her makeshift aerial rig to the frustration of a guard. His attempt to beat some sense into her ended with gymnast legs wrapped around his neck and a sharp, jerk of her hips. After that, they just stopped coming so close and she could finally _think_. Her shivs came in handy, sometimes for stabbing others, sometimes for poking at her own thighs. Promises and wishes and reminders to herself that she could stare at all day. After a while she just refused to eat, not sure if she actually wanted to waste away or simply to see if the guards would let her. It'd suit her just fine if she died in their care and J had found out about it. Either way she'd still be waiting for him, laughing and cheering when he finally joined her. The fantasy had sustained her better than the crappy prison food ever could, but after a while they'd gotten tired of her zoning out and the force feeding had begun... They started refusing her showers. They'd just laugh and reintroduce her to the water hose, laughing when she'd sputter and clamber back up into her aerial rig to shiver, unwilling to chance them lighting up her cell bars for fun.

It wasn't the fact that they'd been sleazebags or jerks to her, not really (hell, torture was just a part of business, she'd seen plenty of it). She gave as good as she got and she liked a challenge. Belle Reve was just so ... _boring_. So pointless and with nothing fun to it. It hadn't been a lesson to the henchmen about traitors, it wasn't payback over some slight or an interrogation tactic. It had been a...a joke without a punchline, as her love would say. An insult to comedy. So all this? These useless reminders that left her gritting her teeth and gripping her hair, saddled with the urge to burn, rip, _ravage_ \--This wasn't funny, not funny at all. She mumbled and repeated it to herself, trying to find a better way to think about it. _At least he got what he deserved_ , Harley thought, nibbling on the edge of her thumbnail. She recalled laughing at him when he'd told her about the phone. She was going to ask puddin' about it personally once he got back. She wanted every little sordid detail about how the fucker had met his end. Now _that_ would be a good joke.

There was a sudden knock at the bathroom doors that startled her out of her thoughts, leaving her blinking in a stupor as she realized the water was actually cooling down (she'd definitely been in there far too long if they were running out of warm water). Harley stood up, legs shaky as one of them had started to fall asleep and her ass had gone numb. She padded her way over the door and peeked out, frowning up at the rookie goon she assumed was on the other side. Instead, she saw Frost.

"...Johnny?" her eyes widened in surprise. He wasn't looking at her; his head was turned away but he nodded once and held out a large, fluffy robe for her to take.

"Boss. He's looking for you." It was a show of just how long he'd been with them that he was able to cleverly indulge her insistence on the goons referring to her as Boss when J wasn't around, and yet make it sound like he was only referring to him in the first place. 

"When did you get back?" She hurriedly shoved her arms through the robe, barely pausing to tie it properly as she rushed past the tall henchman.

"Just now--he's on the top floor!" he called out to her, not even attempting to follow her as she made her way for the lift. She rode it straight up, bouncing impatiently as it arrived to the suite floor and running for the staircase up to their room. A shot rang out suddenly, followed by a familiar thud that usually followed. She recognized the sounds of Joker's Colt Gold immediately, but it was coming from the lounge room. Curious, Harley changed course, spotting a familiar lean form exiting the doorway with a look of irritation on his face. He was wearing his gator skin coat and she drank in the sight of him, already applying his presence like a balm to her lonely heart. Blue eyes rolled to focus on her as she latched onto him, and he stood quietly as she peered around him and into the room. It hadn't been one of the goons, but a worker they had on staff, cleaning the place from time to time. He was lying face down on carpet, quickly bleeding out if the growing red stain was anything to go by.

"...What did ya do that, for?" Harley asked. Joker looked at her like it was obvious, gesturing absently around the room with his gun hand.

"He was in our lounge."

"Well he was cleaning up, silly." Joker's face molded into one of exaggerated surprise, as if this had just occurred to him despite the man's cleaning supplies still scattered about. He glanced back down at the bloody stains on the floor and then back at her, completely serious.

"Well he's doing a horrible job." Harley giggled, and just like that all the little dark phantasms in her mind were being chased away. He'd be lucky if she ever left him alone again, after today. Her laugh cut itself off with an odd choke. Her fists managed to land a few solid hits against his chest and face before he gripped her by the jaw and held her away, eyebrows he didn't have clearly raised in question. He was in a good mood despite the dark glint in his eyes, more curious about her sudden change in mood than violently reactive like he usually would be. Harley pouted to the best of her abilities in his vice like grip. He'd understand she was annoyed, but more or less over whatever he'd done to upset her.

"You left me _all day_. My _first_ day back! What was the big idea--" His hand slid up and covered her mouth, one finger wagging on the same hand as he put away his his gun with the other. He tilted his head back, a deep, contemplating rumble coming from him as he weighed his options.

" _Mmmm_ , I _could_ tell you, but that would ruin the surprise, pumpkin. I'm not even sure I should give it to you now, I don't think you've been a good girl while Daddy was gone. Only good girls get gifts." He loosened his grip on her mouth, but his thumb came to rest on the split in her lip as he leaned in closer, blue eyes intense. "I've been _hearing_ things. Sounds like a busy day to me." Harley managed to look contrite, fighting back the rush of excitement that filled her. She struggled not to bounce in place and focused on being sweet.

"I know, Puddin. I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd be out today and you even took the babies!" She stepped closer to him, testing how much he was going to let slide because of this rare mood. He moved his hand to the back of her neck, leaning into her as she tugged on the lapels of his coat. "I was lonely...I missed you, Daddy." she said it the way he liked, expression reeking of innocence but her voice dripping lascivious promise. She could see the curving of his lips before it split into a devious smile. "I _swear_ I'll be good." He pressed a hard kiss to her lips, pulling back like the tease he was before she could respond appropriately. 

"Well then, I need you to change into something more...appropriate for guests, Harley Pie. Can't give you your gift like that, even if it is... _tempting,_ " an annoyed growl had seeped into his tone. Harley smiled her own mischievous grin at the slip.  

"Are we having a party? Don't ya want me to put on my best dress? I gotta go through em' all and make sure they fit right and my make up--" Her mouth was covered again, and Joker was rolling his eyes and giving her a steadily darkening  _look_. Oops. Right. She nodded.

"Later, Harls. Plenty of time for that. For now, think of something you wouldn't mind playing a little...baseball, in." His teeth glinted.

Ohh... _Oh!_

"I got it!" She beamed. He tapped her on the nose with his finger and retracted it when she snapped at it, his sharp eyes full of a different kind of warning. "I'll throw on something real quick!" She tossed her arms around his neck, smooching him as he gave her an encouraging pat on the ass to hurry her.

"Don't keep Daddy waiting." She got dressed in record time, grabbing a scuffed pair of red and blue boots, denim cut off shorts and a jersey-tee that had the bold letters ' **GCPD** ' printed across it. She paused momentarily at the mirror, frowning at the soggy strands of hair that hadn't completely dried. Lips pursed, she pulled her hair back into a high pony, somewhat reminiscent of how she'd worn her hair...well, before. Unsatisfied, she freed a section at the front from each colored side, a little happier to see the blue and pink so vibrant still. She didn't have any make up on, which made her feel a little less colorful. Still though, she suspected she'd be covered in plenty of color soon enough. 'Playing baseball' meant one thing only--they had a VIP guest and Joker was giving Harley free reign over teaching them some sort of lesson, usually involving her bat. It was a little more business than he'd claimed they'd be doing, but if it gave her the chance to de-stress and all the usual celebratory antics followed, she wasn't going to complain. " _Haaaarl_ ," she heard him drawl out her name, a sign he was getting bored waiting. She rubbed just a small touch of color to her lips (A girl had to look good even when she was breaking bones) and sprinted out the door.

"Here, Puddin!" She popped outside the door where he was waiting, arms thrown up with her hips cocked to the right in a 'tada' pose. He let out a high pitched 'Hee' at the sight of her shirt, just as amused by her choice as she was.

"That a girl," He praised. He walked in front of her with his arms spread, gesturing towards his back and leaning forward. She let out a pleased squeak and hopped onto his back with ease, legs and arms curling around him like a shameless koala. "Careful," he warned as they headed for the lift, eyes cutting over his shoulder at her when her hands roamed greedily under his open coat. "Too greedy and we won't even make it to the party, Harley." It was a bit hypocritical, as his own hands were rubbing along her legs, but she relented with a happy sigh, cheek resting against his neck as she idly traced some of his tattoos. They rode down to the lobby floor and he headed the same route she had this morning, through the soon to be filled casino and into the kitchens at the back. This time however, Joker was heading towards the large door at the end, the fake freezer door that led down to a storage room that was affectionately called 'Bud & Lou's playpen' by Harley and was currently open... Harley bit her lip to contain her excitement, letting the sting from her cut curb her urge to bounce. It didn't matter though, because her lover stopped at the top of the steps, patting her thigh. She unwound from him reluctantly, smiling a mile wide when he stepped behind her and put a hand over her eyes. He guided them down slowly, but she knew these steps by heart, ears already listening for the familiar sounds of her babies as she stepped into the room. There was the whooping and yipping she'd missed terribly, which increased tenfold when she stepped into view (no doubt the boys had missed their mommy too), but there were also frantic muffled yells that sounded like her name, and Harley frowned in curiosity but waited. Joker was suddenly at her ear. " _Aaaaaand_ \--" he pulled his hand away and she opened her eyes, freezing on the spot at the sight of her present.

_"Hey Griggs, easy man, she's had enough. We don't want to get in trouble with Waller, alright?"_

_"Yeah yeah," The guard turned away from a shivering Harley, exiting the room with the rest of his laughing unit._

The sleazy prince of scumbags, Captain Griggs, given what looked to be above and beyond the usual VIP treatment. He was cuffed to a chair in what looked like her Belle Reve uniform, a ball gag in his mouth and an obnoxious purple bow on his head with J's calling card attached. Bud & Lou were sitting obediently nearby, mouths stained red from whatever fun they'd had earlier that day, although now they were begging and whining for her attention with their yipping. She caught sight of the tray closest to Griggs' restrained form-- it had all her toys. Well, most of them anyway. Her mallet, her bat, a straight razor, pliers, a hammer, there was even a generator nearby with jumper cables. Harley was sure of it more than ever, this was _real_ love. She didn't have a Christmas morning in her memory that compared to this moment (the Enchantress really needed to step up on her wish fulfillment dreams--it was sloppy guesswork compared to this).

"Oh, _Puddin'_ , " she spun around, hands to her chest in awe. She reached for him but he stopped her with a finger to her lips. He was thrumming with just as much of that malicious energy as she was, she could already see the fun times this was going to inspire. She was going to make damn sure they were late to whatever party they had.

" _Later_ , Harls. We've got the night ahead of us," he gestured grandly, waltzing over to a still struggling Griggs and silencing the hyenas with a wave of his hand. His proximity made Griggs freeze in fear, which Harley already found hilarious. As if he had anything to lose? No, please, she  _wanted_ him to struggle, to beg. Joker stroked Griggs' face with the back of his hand, the heavy handed way he pressed against the fresh bruise under his eye was contradicting the gentle gesture. "I apologize for the less than pristine condition...Johnny was a little careless with our guest." Harley noticed Frost for the first time, standing off to the side with another suited henchman. They were probably there in case she needed help with any creative ideas she might have, but Harley wasn't going to bother telling them it wasn't necessary. She thrived on a good audience.

"I _told ya_ you were screwed, didn't I?" She teased, sauntering over slowly as she let her hands and eyes trail over each toy on the tray. She could feel Joker's burning gaze watching her as he circled around them both, a predacious cat looking for the perfect vantage point to watch her work. Puddin always loved it when she got really into this sort of thing. While she enjoyed a little gruesome fun now and then, she got more of a rush doing it in front of him, _for_ him. But in this case...oh she'd take a special interest. Her hands tightened around the handle of her first choice, and she finally locked eyes with her special guest, eyes glittering with excitement. "Don't worry, Griggsy," She cooed, bending over and cupping his chin gently with one hand. Holding up the power drill and giving it a few revs with the other, she gave a feral smile when he bucked and pleaded. " _You and I are gonna have so much fun, together~_ " She snickered at the first splatter of blood on her top, her joy turning into frenzied giggling over the cacophony of Griggs' screaming, her babies whooping and the roaring laughter of her Puddin, who'd become tickled over some joke she'd clearly missed. Well, that was the thing about good comedy. She didn't mind a running gag.

So long as there was a punchline.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this since the 5th, because fuck Griggs. Debt paid in full. I might do a drabble focusing on Joker's side of things, but Ciao for now.


End file.
